As You Sleep
by yasae
Summary: Silver quickly takes note of how Flint never seems to relax. Particularly, when he is sleeping.


As You Sleep

Flint never seemed to relax. Even while he slept, his face would be contorted by that hardened scowl he always wore. It seemed that even in his deepest slumber those demons were ever present at the back of his mind. Not necessarily nightmares of the atrocities he had committed, or even the faces of his many enemies, but rather the memories of those he had lost. His friends and loved ones. However, Silver was certain he would never know for sure what it was that tormented him so. Save for his obvious grieving over the sudden and traumatic loss of Mrs. Barlow, he knew very little about his monsters. The man was a closed book. One with many, many pages, and a cover as hard and heavy as his expressions.

After Silver had lost his leg, his relationship with the Captain had begun to evolve slowly but surely. He had tossed aside his claim of the gold to instead focus on how he could best serve Flint and his crew. That change had been an abrupt and unexpected one. Yet as he had watched that crewmen fall from the sabotaged scaffolding on the main mast, he knew that this was no longer about the Urca gold. He cared about these men. How and when that happened he wasn't sure, but what he did know was that these men were no longer simply a means to an end. They were his brothers.

And so his views on Flint had also changed. He now saw him for who he was. A flawed man; one who had his fair share of mistakes and regrets. A stubborn man who dreamed of bettering the lives of his men and himself. And while that dream required untold sacrifices, he would not see it fail. He was so focused on the end result that he paid little consequence to the means to achieve them. And as quartermaster, that was where his duties began. He would steer Flint where they needed him, tempering him to best serve the crew as he also fought towards that elusive goal.

To do this Silver needed to understand the man, his way of thinking. He had connected with him in ways only those closest to him ever had. And while this caused their relationship to flourish into one consisting of respect and maybe even trust, he constantly reminded himself that he needed to be cautious. Gates was the last to form such close ties with the Captain, and he knew better than anyone else what had been the end result. However, despite his own warnings, he found it impossible to keep the man at arm's length. Now that he had found himself in Flint's depths he was unable to resurface. He was drowning in the man. Madi had warned him of this. Yet... he found himself unable to reach for that tether that would free him. Unwilling. He was enthralled with the man.

It would be several more months before Silver officially realized that he was lost to the man. While he and Flint had had their trysts as far back as their failed attempt to steal the Urca gold, their physical affair had rapidly developed since Charlestown. Though they often found themselves with little time alone from the crew, when they did they spent it together. Fucking. His attraction to Flint had become apparent the moment he saw him, and while the Captain never quite spoke of it, he assumed he had realized his own desires early on. Yet they never spent the night together properly. A quick fuck here and there, a passionate tryst in a broom closet, or even against the ship's railing when they were positive they were alone. But the more tender, emotional aspects of the relationship were never there. And Silver knew better than to push. A part of him felt this whole thing was simply a method of coping for Flint. However, one night that changed.

Silver breathed in heavily with closed eyes. He could still feel the pleasure of his orgasm rocking through his body like the ocean waves after a storm. His fingernails bit into Flint's chest, the red scratches beginning to puff up and become irritated from his clawing. Eyes opened as he took in the sight of the man below him. Flint's own gaze was heavy and clouded with satisfaction. Lips wet and parted as he fought to regain his own breath. A hiss left those lips as Flint's softening length slid from the man, Silver maneuvering off of him the best he could with one leg. Calloused fingers gripped Silver's waist to help steady him.

He could feel the wetness on his thighs from Flint's seed, but still he scooted to the edge of the bed and began to pull on his trousers. However, when he felt Flint's knuckles graze down the back of his arm from his shoulder blade he slowed. "You can stay.. if you want." Despite the tenderness of his words, his voice was still rough.

Silver felt a small smile tug at the edge of his mouth. He glanced over his shoulder to smirk at the man. "Do you want me to stay?" As expected, Flint's answer came in the form of a gruff snort. The man's eyes were fixed in a tired glare, a slight frown once again hardening his features as he worked to tuck himself back into his trousers. He never did undress completely for their coupling. Again, Silver assumed due to his desire to remain as closed off as possible.

Silver decided not to push his luck and instead took this for the progress that it was. He finished fixing his own breeches before relaxing back against the bed. Flint shuffled over to make more room for him. The cot was small, but still much more comfortable than the hammocks below deck. Silver could feel the tension in the Captain's body as he laid beside him. It was as if they hadn't just fucked out a week's worth of frustration and stress. However, he understood. Sex was one thing, but he knew how acutely aware the man always was when it came to his personal space.

And so Silver let him be. No further teasing or quippy remarks; instead he was content to simply enjoy his company. The man released a low breath and closed his eyes, listening to Flint's own slowing breaths until he was lulled to sleep as if by a lullaby.

Gradually Silver began to spend the night in the Captain's bed more often than naught. Once by another of the man's feigned indifferent requests, and from then on by a quiet understanding. As Silver began to spend more nights sleeping in Flint's cabin he began to see changes in him. In the way his body began to relax beside him, and how his facial features began to follow suite. Soon when Silver awoke during the night, usually due to pain from his amputated leg, he would see Flint sleeping soundly beside him. His hands would be clasped loosely on his belly and his expression would appear almost... peaceful. No scowl, not even a frown. It was as if all his worries and fears had left him for those few hours of sleep.

This served only to deepen his awe. Silver wondered if in these few hours of peace he was not watching Flint, but was actually catching a glimpse of the man he was before. The well-read man from London instead of the cutthroat that sparked fear into all who heard his name. No one was born a pirate, after all.

One night Silver found himself watching the man as he slept through half-lidded eyes. The throbbing in his stump had awoken him once more, but now that the pain had finally ebbed he was able to enjoy the sight before him. Flint's features were lax, an arm crooked behind his head and his face slightly turned to the side. Despite his better judgement he reached out. Fingers traced the man's jawline down to his beard before smoothing up over his cheek. At his touch Flint stirred. Green eyes opened to peer over at him with a gentle gaze. Silver swallowed lightly but didn't withdraw.

After a moment Flint reached out to return his touch. He cupped Silver's chin and guided him closer until their lips met. It wasn't as if this were the first time they had kissed. They had done so many times in the throws of passion, their mouths coming together in a clash of teeth and tongue as each fought for dominance. However this was different. This was not a precursor for sex, there was no lust in their movements as their lips came together again and again. It was gentle. Tender, almost. After what seemed like an eternity Flint finally withdrew. His hand had settled at the back of Silver's neck, his touch gentle as he moved forward to kiss his forehead.

Silver swallowed. It felt as though his breath had left him. The Captain seemed to ignore his apparent shock and settled back against the cot. A long breath left his lips and his eyes fell shut once more, the man having resigned to going back to sleep. Even so, Silver found himself studying the man's face. Trying to understand the tender intimacy he had just extended to him. As he watched him sleep he realized that this was not Captain Flint. This was James. The man behind the mask, behind the image he upheld to keep his men in line and to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. This was a man whose barriers he had finally relinquished, to expose the true version of himself that very few were allowed to see.

This was James Flint. His Captain, his partner, his anchor. And he would gladly succumb to those depths if it meant that he could stay by his side just a while longer.


End file.
